The World’s Greatest is Dead - Chapter 442

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Heavenly Supreme Has Died – Episode 442
After the martial contest with the Young Master, news of it spread like wildfire.
It wasn’t an unofficial bout by any means, and there were plenty of witnesses.
Wol-hyeop and the Demonic Sect’s Young Master had clashed.
The fact that Wol-hyeop emerged victorious from the martial contest was now echoing through Hanan via the Gaebangjoo.
Thanks to that.
The murmurs of unease that had filled the province when the Demonic Sect arrived were beginning to subside.
“So he truly is Geomseong’s Predecessor? The Demonic Sect’s Young Master is nothing special after all.”
“Where would Hanan’s hero go? We trembled in fear when the Demonic Sect arrived… but with Wol-hyeop, it’s different.”
“The Celestial Demon’s return and all that—just empty reputation.”
The conversations continued in the inn. Listening to them, I swallowed another spoonful of noodles from my corner seat.
Representing the Disciples of the province.
I found the pressure and fame that came with it somewhat bothersome, but if I thought about it, it might not be entirely bad.
“There’s quite a bit of chatter. You’ve become quite the celebrity in an instant. Or were you already popular?”
At the muttering, I smacked my lips. Sitting across from me was Eunwol Sword Yoo Yul.
“…Why are you picking a fight?”
“A fight? I’m complimenting my junior.”
“If that’s a compliment, please stop.”
That grinning expression was thoroughly irritating. By the way, Yoo Yul had removed the bandages from his arms, apparently fully recovered.
How did I end up traveling with this man to the province? It felt remarkably troublesome.
“Sigh.”
“What? Don’t the noodles suit your taste? Then I’ll eat them—”
“Keep your hands off.”
“Fine, fine!”
There was a reason for this journey together. Originally, I should have come with Sochul Daeju, but something came up for him.
‘Go together, you two.’
That was what Cheon Rijin-an ordered me to do. If two disciples of Cheongwol Sect were to go, there must be some reason behind it.
“We can just handle it quickly. Why eat a meal in the first place?”
Yoo Yul insisted on stopping to eat on the way and dragged me into this inn. As a result, I wasn’t even hungry but ended up eating noodles.
“Since we’re here anyway, should we have a drink of Jukyelp Green?”
“…Are you insane?”
Drinking alcohol? I stared at his ridiculous expression.
“Why not? The weather’s nice and the company’s good, so let’s have a drink.”
“What’s nice about the weather?”
I pointed out the window.
후두두두두둑–!!! 쏴아아아아—!!!
Outside, an unprecedented downpour was pouring down. This was my most hated kind of day.
A day when yin energy exploded, when demons and ghosts ran rampant.
Because of that, I absolutely hated going out on days like this, even if it meant death.
“Ah…”
I had no choice but to listen to Cheon Rijin-an’s words, which were filled with anger from yesterday.
‘Didn’t I tell you to stay put? And you held a martial contest in the meantime?’
Cheon Rijin-an grew furious upon learning belatedly that I had fought with the Young Master.
‘If you had gotten injured in the process… No, what would you have done if you had lost?’
He mentioned the problems that would arise from defeat. He didn’t make the snide remark that it would have been fine if I had won.
After all, I too had tried not to fight because I was concerned about the consequences of losing.
In any case, even though I ultimately won, his anger did not subside.
‘…Go handle one errand tomorrow and return.’
He entrusted me with a task. I had no grounds to refuse.
“…If you’re finished eating, perhaps we should… What? When did you order this?”
There’s bamboo leaf liquor in front of me. When did he bring it? I looked at Yoo Yul in bewilderment, but he was already taking a sip.
“Ah… How many years has it been since I’ve had a drink?”
“…This is crazy. You’re really drinking? Senior, have you lost your mind?”
“Ah, please understand. I spent several years rolling around in the mountains, so I couldn’t drink alcohol.”
“…”
He brings up a long-term mission. Hearing that, my eyes narrowed slightly. Was the timing particularly convenient?
There was something I wanted to ask, but there was something I hadn’t asked all this time.
“Senior.”
“Hmm?”
“What were you doing there?”
We weren’t particularly close, nor was our relationship such that I could ask.
Even now it’s not much different, but the timing was favorable.
“Where.”
“The Death King’s mountain.”
“Ah.”
A long-term mission spanning several years. Yoo Yul, who had been called the direct disciple of Wol Seon-geom, left that mission—what had he done?
I asked him that.
“You were curious about that?”
Yoo Yul chuckles at my question and speaks.
“A little?”
“What will you give me if I answer?”
“…”
At his subtle smile, I scratched my cheek and replied.
“I won’t listen…”
“Aha. Well, that was quick…!”
If I have to give something to listen, then I won’t listen. Before those words even finish, Yoo Yul urgently blocks my path.
“It’s not like I’m asking for anything grand. Can’t you at least make an offer?”
“…No. I’m not that curious about it.”
“Then just grant me one request. Then I’ll tell you.”
“I said I won’t grant it.”
“Please.”
“….”
Why was he so desperate? I was the one who wanted to hear it, yet somehow Yoo Yul had become the one clinging to me. His expression even suggested he might do something if I refused.
What was he doing?
“…What is it?”
I decided to listen first. That was my intention in asking.
“Let’s have one more match.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not!”
I refused immediately upon hearing it. Yoo Yul cried out asking why I was refusing, but it was absurd. Was I supposed to accept this? The man had broken his arm in our last match and even wore bandages. Now that he was healed, another match? Why did everyone want to fight me so badly?
“What match? We already did this last time.”
The man who had his arm destroyed and wrapped in bandages. Now that it’s healed, another match? Why does everyone want to fight me so desperately?
“This time will be different.”
“How so?”
“It’ll be more fun.”
“You’re insane.”
His reasoning was hilarious. Moments like this made me realize he was truly a member of the Cheongwol Sect.
The competitive spirit burning in his eyes was far too honest.
“…A match, then.”
What was amusing in this situation.
‘Am I any different?’
A thought that had been recurring lately.
Whether I was truly different from these people.
These days I was just as competitive and eager to fight as anyone else.
‘…Old Man.’
What had Yoo Cheon-gil done to me?
Or was that old man, who had disappeared like a dead mouse, doing something within me right now?
These were the thoughts crossing my mind.
But a match with Yoo Yul here?
“…I’ll think about it.”
Surprisingly, I didn’t find myself rejecting the idea outright.
“Oh!”
Pleased with my answer, Yoo Yul’s eyes gleamed.
“A good answer.”
“So, what about my question?”
“Ah, right.”
Yoo Yul poured himself another drink from the cup before him and spoke.
“The reason I went to the Death King’s mountain wasn’t anything special. The Death King continued to be called righteous, but he was viewed as an inconvenient existence by the world—and through that process, I learned one fact.”
“…A fact, you say?”
Whoosh—! A barrier fell into place with his words. Yoo Yul had deployed it.
“What’s truly remarkable is that above the Death King, there exists Gungwi.”
“…!”
My eyes widened at his words. It wasn’t information I was unaware of—I already knew this fact.
What startled me was that Yoo Yul answered so casually.
“…Are you permitted to tell me such things?”
“Why not? Our junior is the Young Master of the Cheongwol Sect, after all. The Moonju will surely overlook it.”
“….”
Right. I was the Young Master. I’d momentarily forgotten that fact.
“Gungwi treats the Cheongwol Sect as an enemy. However, I learned that Gungwi exists above the Death King. To understand this, I headed toward his mountain.”
“…Why you, senior?”
Though Sowoldae operates similarly, there would be no need to send Yoo Yul for such a mission. So why was he specifically chosen?
“Well, I simply followed orders, but the Moonju said I was the suitable person for the task.”
“Suitable?”
“Yes. He said I was in a good state to evade the Death King’s gaze.”
“….”
Hearing that, I couldn’t help but agree.
‘Indeed.’
Yoo Yul possesses formidable spiritual energy. What lies within him is powerful, his mind unshakeable.
As a shaman, I would judge him to be profoundly inscrutable, his inner depths impossible to perceive.
Regardless of whether he possessed spiritual essence or not, such a person was someone both ghosts and shamans instinctively avoided.
‘How did Wol Seon-geom know this?’
An existence capable of evading the Death King’s perception.
If my assessment was correct, it seemed strange that Wol Seon-geom had discerned this.
“Thanks to that, I spent three years investigating and confirmed that Gungwi truly has a close relationship with the Death King, then returned as instructed.”
“It took three years for that?”
“I had other tasks as well. But this one….”
Yoo Yul smiled faintly.
“That’s a secret.”
“….”
He wouldn’t say more. It didn’t matter. I’d obtained what I needed.
‘Wol Seon-geom is concerned with Gungwi. And he seems to know they manipulate spiritual essence.’
The problem is.
‘Yoo Yul returned, but he brought back something unnecessary that caught Gungwi and the Death King’s attention.’
That gaze.
The fact that he carried something likely stemming from Gungwi’s ability was proof that she had noticed the Cheongwol Sect’s actions.
Tap, tap.
I drummed my fingers on the table. My thoughts deepened, but there was no time to organize them and draw conclusions.
“Understood. Let’s get up now.”
I needed to attend to matters first. I would sort through what I’d learned later.
“Huh? Already? I still have more drink-”
“I’m busy. Why are you drinking so brazenly? Let’s go.”
“Ugh!”
I dragged Yoo Yul out of the tavern as if pulling him along.
Whoooosh—!!!
The torrential rain poured relentlessly. Yoo Yul and I moved forward despite the poor visibility.
The meeting place lay somewhat deep within the prefecture.
‘So there’s this much distance.’
A well-constructed prefecture in Hanan.
Though the assault had left it somewhat in disarray, it had been quickly rebuilt into a beautiful sight once more.
Darkness always lingered in the corners.
This place had such streets as well.
“Please… just one coin….”
Beggars pleaded while drenched by the rain.
“Great hero… please, just one coin….”
I walked past them without a glance. The muddy ground beneath my feet was rather unpleasant.
As I continued walking, a shantytown came into view in the distance.
A place where one could barely escape the rain.
‘Is this it?’
Could this really be the place? This was the location Cheon Rijin-an had indicated.
“Hmm. Something’s off.”
Yoo Yul spoke, and with a metallic sound, he placed his hand on the sword at his side.
“The atmosphere doesn’t feel right?”
I agreed. I felt it too.
Just as I was about to approach that direction.
Grip!
Someone seized my foot.
“Great hero…! Please… please just one coin…. Just give me one coin…!”
A skeletal figure with drenched hair, face obscured. The emaciated body seemed as though every bone would be visible. The stench was strong enough to pierce through the rain.
A beggar. That was the immediate impression from his appearance.
However.
“….”
I stared intently at the old man. In that brief moment, I noticed something.
I slowly lowered my head.
The beggar, thinking his plea had succeeded, spoke with a bright voice.
“Ah… thank you—”
“I greet the master of the Gaebangjoo.”
“….”
Yoo Yul flinched at my words, and the old man’s body went rigid.
“Ha.”
The voice flowing from the old man changed.
“How did you know?”
Gaebangjoo Tabong, Woo Aseok.
He was the very existence we had been searching for.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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